


Friends

by olivemartini



Series: Miscalleneous Newt/Tina [3]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 18:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8633230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivemartini/pseuds/olivemartini
Summary: Nobody noticed that Newt was hurt until much later.





	

No one realized he was hurt until they were back at Tina's apartment.

She would like to say that the reason no one had noticed was that he had done such a good job of hiding it, but the truth was that his slight limp and the little winces of pain were being buried under other things- things like Jacob stepping out into rain, the image of Graves transforming into Grindewald, and Credence.  But then they were back at the apartment, and Queenie was demanding that Newt sit down before he hurt himself even more.  He was leaning to one side, bowing under the weight of his suitcase, stumbling into the kitchen table and muttering out a "sorry, so sorry" before sinking into one of the chairs.

"What happened?  What's wrong with him?"  Tina hadn't seen him get hurt, and he had looked perfectly fine, but now that she thought about he had been sticking rather close to the walls and had trailed behind her the whole walk home, but at the time she thought that that was his way of handling what had just happened.

"Graves, or Grindewald, he... during the fight, the unforgiveables.... crucio..."  The words sounded muffled, like they were all underwater, because Newt was suddenly lurching forward, and Tina had to be there to catch him before he hit the floor.

* * *

Tina learned two things that day:

The first was that somewhere between Credence turning into a dark mass of roiling anger and her coming down into the subway station to help, Newt and Grindewald had faced off.  He had been knocked down on the railroad tracks and cruciod, a fact that he had deemed unfit to share with the rest of his friends because, as he put it, "he was fine, truly, and he didn't want to bother them, there were more important things to worry about."

The second was that newt was a horrible patient.

As good as he was at taking care of creatures and other people, it appeared that he couldn't stand it when the roles were reversed.  He was constantly fighting to get out of bed, trying to help with the dishes or the creatures.  He didn't believe Tina when she said she would be able to handle it, so she had to take Pickett with her to supervise.  She tried not to be insulted by the fact that Newt trusted a bowtruckle more than her, but from the little giggles Queenie was letting out, she wasn't doing a very good job at not being annoyed.

"He's trying to get up again."  Queenie was standing at the oven, making a pie the no-maj way, like she always did when she was stressed or wanted to think.  Ever since she met Jacob, she had decided that baking isn't truly baking if you don't take the time to feel the dough underneath your fingers.  "You might want to go check on him."

And that, really, was enough.  She opened the door with a bang, revealing a guilty looking Newt, who was trying to button his shirt and pack up his suitcase at the same time, but was unable to do either.  "Damn."  He gave a weak chuckle, sitting back down on the bed as he did so.  "I keep forgetting that your sister can read my mind."

Tina wishes that was something she could forget, because then maybe she wouldn't feel as guilty about letting herself look at the bit of his skin that she could see, or having to press down the hurt growing inside of her.  "You were trying to leave again."

"I wasn't leaving."  They had had this argument before, him saying that he was perfectly fine and her spouting off facts about the long term effects of crucio if he wasn't properly rested for the next few days or so.  "I was just coming out to join you in the kitchen.  Help Queenie with the pie."

"You were supposed to be resting!"  She was getting panicked again, the way she always did when things weren't going exactly right.  Queenie always said that Tina cared about people too much, put too much emphasis on helping them, and had always gotten too upset when they didn't appear to want her help.  But she had thought that Newt was someone who would see her trying to help and accept it, not take every other waking moment to throw her efforts back into her face. 

"I'm fine."  He stood up straight, even though she could see on his face that it still hurt him, and gave a smile.  He was even looking her in the eye, that's how hard he was trying to convince her.  "See?"

"Fine.  Fine!"  She wasn't sure why she was getting so angry, when only a few days ago she had been trying to get this man arrested, but she was.  "Do whatever you want!  Leave, for all I care!  Go and run around in your damn suitcase, get yourself hurt and watch that brilliant brain of yours turn to mush because you put yourself under too stress too soon after being attacked!"

He blinked, stunned, and then sank back onto the bed.  "I wasn't going to leave."  He seemed confused, like this was turn of events he hadn't been expecting.  "Did you want me to leave?"

The answer was no, of course the answer was no, but the word was stuck behind the lump in her throat, and he was nodding his head like this was something he had been expecting, getting up to finish packing.  She thought that she might have to watch him leave and never return, but then Queenie was there, holding a plate of pie and shaking her head sadly.

"Of course she doesn't want you to leave, Newt.  She wants you to stay here as long as you can."  The pie was thrown onto the bedside table with a clatter, and then two plates flew into the room, hovering by both of them.  "She just wants you to get better, and she gets upset when people seem to not want her help."

"He doesn't want my help."  She sounded like a baby, and tears were gathering in her eyes, but Tina couldn't help it.  It was all too much, too soon, and the events of the last week were catching up with her in one giant wave of hurt and exhaustion. 

"Of course he wants your help, he can barely stand up without your help, he's just afraid if he's a bother you won't want him to be around anymore.  Besides,"  Queenie's voice was soft, and now she was placing a hand on Newt's shoulder in a way that most certainly did _not_ send a wave of jealousy through Tina.  "He's not used to having people care for him."

Queenie turned to look at each of them in turn, a little guilty but most defiant.  It had been a rule in their house that even if Tina couldn't help but hear everything that was thought, if the words weren't said out loud, it wasn't allowed to be used in any argument or conversation.  But, as Queenie says, sometimes it's necessary.

* * *

"I'm sorry."

This was the next morning.  Tina woke up from her spot on the other bed slowly.  She had been staying here the past few nights, because the only time Newt lets on about how much pain he's in is in his sleep, and she likes to be there for him when he wakes up, even if it's just to calm him down long enough to get him back to bed.  "For what?"

"For not letting you help me."  His fingers were twisting around the sheets, fidgeting, and for once Pickett was silent.  "I didn't mean to make any trouble."

"You aren't _trouble,_ Newt."  She smoother his hair back on his head, a gesture that was meant to be comforting and check his fever all at once.  "You're my friend.  And friends do things like this for each other, as often as its needed."

He smiled, half shy and half happy, one hand going up to find hers.  "I'm not used to having friends."

"Well."  It hurt to hear that, but Tina wasn't that surprised.  You don't get his lack of confidence from going to parties every other weekend.  Tina should know.  "Now you do."

**Author's Note:**

> The ending here is kind of crappy, but I couldn't think of anything else to do.


End file.
